Fireside
by somethinprettty
Summary: AU/AH: Damon and Elena didn't just fall in love, they crashed into it. A perfect little accident that burned white hot until everything started to fall apart. Now the question remains: can they set it alight again?
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: So I'm totally the worst person EVER for posting this story, deleting it, posting it again and then deleting it again but something just didn't feel right about it and now I think that's been rectified. For starter's, it's been weighing really heavily on me that I have three other stories currently in progress but aren't finished, and part of me feels like I should finish those before posting this but I want to strike while the iron is hot, and that moment is now.**

**For those of you that have already read previous chapters, there are quite a few tweaks in the prologue as well as the first few chapters, so it might be a good idea to reacquaint yourself with it. **

**Words can't describe how thankful I am for my beta _goldnox_. It's my very first time having a beta and I couldn't have done this without her. She has made this such an enjoyable experience so far, and we've only worked on the prologue together. I can't wait to continue working with her, and if you haven't already I would strongly suggest that you go and take a look at her current story Auto In, a personal favorite of mine (and it was before she was my beta so I'm not being biased).**

**I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it so far, and I look forward to hearing what you think about it. **

**Story title comes from Arctic Monkeys _Fireside._ Thank you and happy reading!**

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**Fireside: Prologue**

**DAMON**

I've never been a big fan of clocks, the concept of them incredibly abhorrent. Just the thought of my days, my life being numbered and measured, it's enough to make you crazy. Still, I don't think I've ever hated time more than I do right now in this moment.

I don't know how long I've been sitting here. It feels like hours, but it's probably just minutes. Either way, I'm so tired of the drawn out spaces that fill each and every hesitation between the movements of the dial on the clock I face, but I can't keep myself from watching. And it isn't like I'm looking forward to what lies beyond this waiting game. Sometimes, it feels like that's all my life has been: waiting for something to change, waiting for my life to begin, waiting for _her_, waiting for the broken fragments of my life to magically stitch themselves back together.

Now, I'm just counting the moments until all of this is over.

I tap my foot anxiously against the bamboo hardwood floor that I helped pick out for this place, the seconds ticking by too quickly on the clock, the minutes moving too slow.

My fists clench with a feeling I'm not quite sure I can put a name to, wrinkling the multitude of paperwork in my hands. I sigh, reluctantly smoothing them out on my thigh. They've already been crinkled, long gone the stark white color and smoothness that comes with being fresh off the printer, the result of after being clutched so tightly, read so thoroughly.

The words on the page jump out at me: bold, italicized, Times New Roman size twelve font, it's all shouting at me, mocking me, but it's useless. I already know what's there. Every single word, punctuation mark and line of text has been read, re-read, and analyzed by me hundreds of times over in the past three months. I know what it says and where it says it, and it's a testament to my self-control that I haven't already tore it all apart with my bare hands and tossed it in the nearest recycling bin.

"Mr. Salvatore." The receptionist, Vanessa—I think her name is—calls my name and my head whips up. I don't miss the sultry tone of her voice or the coquettish smile she flashes me. She's being about as subtle as a shotgun with the way she's twirling her bleach blonde hair around her perfectly manicured finger and the way she's jutting her cleavage out of her blouse. "Mr. Saltzman will see you now."

"Thanks," I reply briskly, not even sparing a glance in her direction as I pass her desk and make my way to the office in the back on shaky legs. I poke my head in the door, and I'm half-expecting to find him passed out on the couch that he keeps in his office, but he's nowhere to be found.

Sighing, I throw the paperwork onto Alaric's desk and tiredly make myself comfortable on the plush leather couch that sits against the wall. I've never felt this kind of exhaustion in all my life. It's not the kind of fatigue that can be fixed with a night or two of good sleep. It's a weariness that I can feel in every single bone in my body.

I anxiously tap my foot against the polished wooden floors to the rhythm of the ticking clock that hangs on the wall across from me, tucked between many diplomas and certificates. On his desk sits frames of photos, and I can't help but grin a little when I see a picture of Ric and me from the night of his bachelor party. Our smiles are wider than ever as he holds up a bottle of top-shelf bourbon; my arm is around his shoulders and I have my thumbs up in the air. We were both drunk out of our minds and I woke up with a killer hangover the next day, but damn that was a good night.

I met Ric about five years ago, during one of my many nights spent at the Mystic Grill. I walked in and found him sitting in _my_ seat at the bar, and when I called him out on it, he proclaimed me a dick and we've been friends ever since. It was a big night for my buddy, because it was also the same night that he met Jenna Sommers.

"Hey, sorry that I'm late," Ric says as he walks through the door before kicking it closed. His arms are full of manila folders, each overflowing with documents and paperwork of every kind. He unceremoniously dumps everything onto his desk that I helped him put together before collapsing into the swivel chair.

"You should be," I taunt, smirking a little. "Do you keep all your clients waiting like this? Because I've gotta say, so far I'm not very impressed."

"Yeah, good luck finding a lawyer in this town that'll take your case pro bono."

"Thanks for reminding me that I'm flat broke, dick. By the way, you look like hell."

"I feel like it," Ric replies, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hand. "I'm exhausted. I was up half the night with—"

"Easy there," I say and shake my head, because Ric is what you would call a little bit of an over sharer, and God knows I don't want details about all the moves his wife picked up from yoga. "Just because I was the best man at your wedding doesn't mean that I want to know all the details about what goes on behind closed doors at the Saltzman household."

"With _Henry_," Ric clarifies, rolling his eyes. "Jenna and I couldn't get him to stop crying, no matter what we did. He didn't go down until about four in the morning. It was brutal."

I bite back the pain that surges through me and I long for the days when my biggest problem was sleep deprivation. "He probably just misses his Uncle Damon," I say. Henry is Alaric and Jenna's three-month-old baby boy, who also happens to be my godson.

"Yeah, either that or I'm just a shitty father."

I press my lips together sadly. I can't help but feel bad for the poor guy. No one understands better than I do what Ric and Jenna are going through. I may tease the hell out of him, but he's still my best friend and I can't help but to want to ease his burden, even a little bit.

"It'll get better," I say quietly, taking a deep breath. "Three months down and a lifetime to go, but you and Jenna will be okay." I look at the many frames on his desk, smiling a little when my eyes land on a picture of Ric and Henry the day he was born. He confided in me that he wasn't sure he would be able to do this, and his arms were shaking so badly that he made me stand beside him while the picture was being taken, just in case he dropped the baby or something. But somehow all his doubt melted away as soon as the nurse announced his son was here: a living, breathing part of the world.

Later on that day, he and I stood outside the hospital nursery and looked through the pane glass window at all the babies, Ric smiling proudly as his son slept peacefully unlike all the other wailing newborns.

It was then that I knew everything would be okay.

"Everything will be fine," I continue, "and if you're ever in doubt, just remember that there are some guys that would _kill_ to be you, to have a loving wife and a healthy baby waiting for them at home. It could be a hell of a lot worse, my friend. You could be in my shoes."

He blows out a deep breath, running his hand through his hair. "Jesus, Damon, I'm sorry," he apologizes instantly, guilt flooding his features as my shoulders deflate. I miss the days where I could have a conversation with someone without feeling pity roll off them in tidal waves.

"Don't worry about it," I say shortly, dismissing the subject.

The last thing I need right now is to talk about _that_.

Ric nods his head and the two of us are silent for a minute until he's obligated to bring up the real reason for our meeting, the _other_ elephant in the room. "So, I'm assuming that this means things aren't any better at home?"

I shake my head. "I'm here, aren't I?"

He opens his mouth but quickly shuts it. I know that he wants to apologize, but I'm grateful that he doesn't. This entire situation is fucked up enough as it is and besides, it's not like it's _his_ fault that my life and marriage are in shambles.

"Okay then, I'll try to make this as quick as possible." Ric sits up a little straighter, shifting from my friend to my lawyer while digging through the mountains of folders on his desk until he gets to the paperwork I brought in with me. Once he finds it, he grabs a ballpoint pen from his desk and comes around to join me on the couch, setting the documents on the coffee table in front of us and begins pointing to different sections. "As your lawyer, I'm legally obligated to go through this with you section by section, so just bear with me."

There isn't a single word on any of those papers that I haven't read to myself dozens of times over, so I tune him out as best I can, his voice becoming white noise as I think about every moment in my life that has lead me here.

I go over every choice I've ever made, the good and the bad. I think about all the tears and laughter, promises both kept and broken. I think about everything I've lost and everything I've gained. I ask myself questions and try to find answers, but I can only come up with one.

My life begins and ends with Elena Gilbert.

Ric hurls some more legal mumbo jumbo my way and then he's handing me a pen. My stomach churns as I take it in my hand, and suddenly my mind is racing and my shirt is sticking to my back from the cold sweat pouring off me and it feels like it's tied to the tears I refuse to cry, all of reality slipping away from me.

_"I can't believe you just did that!" I laugh, unable to keep the wide smile off my face as Elena hops off the chair in __the local tattoo shop. My eyes drink in greedily the way the denim of her jeans hug her curves, her simple t-shirt_ _slipping off her shoulders so I have a delicious peek of a purple lace bra I fastened for her this morning. __I don't move as she comes and stands between my legs, a soft smile on her face as she wraps her arms around my neck and runs her fingers through my hair._

_"Why not? You did it," she reminds me, moving one hand down my chest to gently lay her palm over my heart w__here her name is permanently written in black ink, an elegant script that soaks into me so deep it balms every pain I've ever known. __Even through the material of my black t-shirt, my skin tingles from her touch, aches for it. I'm so fucking in love with this girl, and I can't quite believe that I'm now branded on her just like she's always been on me._

_There's nothing in the world like this feeling, __having the woman you love in your arms, smiling ear to ear because she just got your name tattooed on the inside of her hip bone._

_"Yeah, but_—"

_Elena gently covers my mouth with her hand. "No buts," she says firmly._

_I sigh and gently lace our fingers together, kissing her palm before I pull it away with a light squeeze. "I just don't want you to regret this," I admit quietly._

_ "Do you regret yours?" _

_I shake my head immediately, because asking me if I regret her name is like asking if I regret her, and I couldn't dream of ever regretting her or leaving her, even if I wanted to . "No, of course not, but that's not_—"

_"Damon," she says softly, moving her hand from my neck to gently cup the side of my face. "In twenty or thirty years from now, when I look back at this tattoo, I want to remember how I felt tonight: alive, free, and so hopelessly and recklessly in love with you. I want to remember this feeling for the rest of my life. So no, I won't regret this."_

_"God, I love you so much," I whisper, my voice thick with emotion as I stand up and cradle her face in both my hands, brushing her soft cheeks with the pads of my thumbs._

_Love and adoration for her surges through me and I can't help but capture her lips in a languid kiss , but it doesn't last as long as I'd like it to and when I pull away, I drop my forehead to hers._

"_You are my life," __I vow, my voice filled with conviction that only strengthens when her eyelashes sweep down, the smile curving her lips brighter than I've ever known._

Just as quickly as it had come, the memory leaves and I'm left with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach as tears gather in my eyes. I take a deep breath and grip the pen tightly, but my hand doesn't stop shaking as it glides across the paper until finally, I'm standing at the end of a road that is both the best and worst years of my life.

I gently lay the pen down on the paper and lean back, my eyes falling on my hands as I twist the golden band around my ring finger before sliding it off and tucking it into the confines of my jean pocket.

I take a deep breath.

It's over.

My marriage is over.

Elena and I are officially divorced.


	2. Smells Like Teen Spirit

**Author's Note: I'm completely blown away by the positive responses that I've gotten so far, not only through reviews but through the amount of people that have added this story to their alerts and their favorites. It means so much to me, more than I could possibly tell you and it puts a huge smile on my face every time I check my email and it says Fireside has a new follower. **

**I feel so blessed to have worked with _goldnox_ for the prologue and this chapter, and I hope to continue working with her and absorbing all the wisdom she has to offer. Unfortunately, Auto In is finished but I still think that you should a) re-read it or b) read her other stories because honestly, they're all fantastic.**

**I'm so thrilled to finally be updating, it feels like it's been a while. It would mean a lot to me if you could drop a review when you're done reading - stories like this take hours to write but only seconds to review! I'm so excited for you all to see it so without further ado, Fireside's chapter one.**

**Chapter title comes from Nirvana's _Smells Like Teen Spirit. _Enjoy!**

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******Chapter One: Smells Like Teen Spirit****  
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**DAMON**

It's been a long week and you'd think that a party would be the perfect way to kick off the weekend and finally relax after all the stress that I've been under lately. The last few weeks working at the auto-shop have been busier than ever before, and my hours have nearly doubled since being promoted to manager. The ends justify the means but it puts a strain on me from time to time, although I think tonight is what's causing more anxiety than anything else.

I love parties, but I hate throwing them.

Of all the ways that I imagined spending my twenty-first birthday, playing chaperone to a bunch of high school kids while Stefan hosts a party wasn't at the top of my list—it's actually way down at the bottom about thirty options away from lap dances and body shots.

"Oh no, you don't want that," I tell the drunk freshman with _my_ bottle of bourbon in his hands, shaking my head. I'm all for devouring endless bottles of inhibition killer and having a good time, but the youth of Mystic Falls need to learn—sooner rather than later— that my alcohol is off limits to grubby, unappreciative hands. "You want the cheap young stuff over by the cheap young people."

He looks like he wants to argue and I'm about to tell him that it wasn't a suggestion, but he scampers off in the other direction and disappears into the crowd of rowdy teenagers that are currently turning my house into something that resembles a Spec's after an F5 tornado.

I exhale a deep breath when a group of girls _all_ spill their feminine concoctions of alcohol straight out of their red solo cups and right onto the antique Persian rug. The one that I'll probably end up spending most of tomorrow trying to get the stench of stale beer out of.

"You and your alcohol." Rose comes up to me with a smirk on her face before taking the bottle from my hands. "Sharing is caring, you know."

"I only share with worthy people and _you_ are lucky enough to have made that very small list." I snatch the bottle back from her and take a long swig, relishing in the way that the alcohol soothes and burns my throat all at once. "So, where's dear old Trevor tonight? Still trouble in paradise?"

"You know there is." She sighs. "And he's probably getting himself into something with Elijah Mikaelson that only I'll be able to get him out of."

I make a face at the mention of Elijah's name, and Rose rolls her eyes, but I can't help it. I hate that bastard—him and his entire family. The only one from that entire fucked up British Brady Bunch that I can actually tolerate is Rebekah, and that's only in small increments because she's fun in bed.

"I don't know why you even bother anymore," I tell her honestly. She's been down this road so many times and the destination is always the same. Trevor fucks up, Rose dumps him then winds up in bed with me and as soon as he apologizes, they get right back together. I don't mind being her rebound because if I'm being honest, I need her just as much as she needs me. People say our friendship is kind of fucked up, and they'd be right but it's _ours_.

"I love him. You wouldn't understand."

I let out a humorless chuckle and take another drink. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you miss the entire Katherine Pierce debacle? Because I'm pretty sure that you had a front row seat when you caught her in bed with Trevor on prom night."

Yeah, my senior prom isn't something that I like to think about if I can help it.

"You weren't in love with Katherine, you said you were happy that she cheated on you because it set you free," she reminds me and I roll my eyes. "You weren't happy with her."

When I walked into Mason Lockwood's bedroom to find Katherine in bed with Trevor, I'll admit that stung. Katherine and I had been dating off and on for two years and she was the closest that I'd ever had to an actual relationship. Maybe I wasn't in love with her, and maybe I dodged a huge fucking bullet by getting out when I did, but at the same time she was important to me and she betrayed that.

"I'm not happy with anyone," I reply, taking another drink as Rose puts her hand on my arm, offering me a small smile. I sigh. "What?"

"Let's not talk about this anymore. It's your birthday and I happen to know that there is a very small cake in the kitchen with your name on it." I cock an eyebrow in confusion and Rose chuckles. "Your brother is nothing if not thorough."

Stefan has always been more sentimental than I am, and I should have known that he would try to make my birthday a little bit more memorable than by just throwing a party that he keeps swearing was intended for me but "got a little out of hand." Of course he had to go and get me a cake too. I wouldn't be surprised if I went into the kitchen and found that he baked the damn thing himself.

There's only one way to find out.

I extend my elbow to Rose and she takes it with a smile. I take a deep breath and regret it immediately because my nostrils burn with the disgusting, smelly combination that is sweaty teenagers, stale beer, cigarettes and weed.

"I hate that smell," I tell her as we make our way through the crowd towards the kitchen.

"You didn't seem to mind that smell _or_ the taste when you had your tongue shoved down Vicki Donovan's throat at the Lockwood party last month."

"You were nowhere to be found." I smirk. "I was drunk and horny and she was an easy lay. A guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do."

"You're such a catch," she says sarcastically before adding with a laugh that we should both get tested. I roll my eyes but smile nonetheless, thankful for her companionship. I was in a pretty dark place when I met Rose a little over four years ago; my father had just passed away and my uncle Zach was struggling with the courts to be granted guardianship of me and Stefan. Everything was up in the air for a while, but she was there for me when I needed her and eventually, our friendship escalated to a physical level.

Rose suddenly stops walking and nods her head, and I follow her line of sight to the keg where Trevor is standing in the crowd. The cake is long forgotten when she looks at me apologetically, obviously wanting to go to him and not wanting to be rude. I roll my eyes and gently nudge her in his direction because it wouldn't be the first time we ditched each other at a party in favor of getting laid, and it certainly won't be the last.

"Go. It's best you don't spend the entire night by my side anyways. Besides, what are the chances of me getting laid with hot birthday sex if you're attached to my hip all night long?" I grin and throw my arm around her shoulders, giving her a light squeeze. And after I press a loving kiss to her light brown hair, I relinquish my grip and jerk my head towards Trevor's direction. "Go get 'em, tiger."

Rose smiles warmly. "Happy birthday, Damon. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Right. Bowling. How could I forget?"

"You couldn't," she quips with a wink. "I set a reminder on your phone. I couldn't have you bailing on me like last time."

"My car broke down!" I defend myself before I narrow my eyes. "And when did you go through my phone?"

"You're a heavy sleeper. I'll see you later, bye!" Rose waves her hand dismissively, flitting off in the other direction while I'm left standing alone in the middle of a crowded room.

I quickly lose myself in the throng of people, hands and eyes and lips and bodies both new and known brushing against me as they slur their congratulations and well wishes, all of them morphing into one endless wave of counterfeit love that feels incredibly distant for how close they physically are. I drown their voices with pulls off the bottle of Jack until there's barely anything left, nothing but a small splash of gold liquid and a burning in my stomach that reminds me of forty names I'll never remember.

I scan the room and my eyes land on Rebekah Mikaelson who is currently chatting with a girl that I recognize as his brother's girlfriend, and she looks as bored as I feel. Rebekah's a lot of fun; she's got a wicked sense of humor and a ridiculous honk of a laugh that's funny enough to make you forget about every inch of her delicious curves. But regardless, the last time we were together I promised that I'd call, and then I _didn't_, so she's probably rightfully pissed as hell.

I'm about to make my way over when I see something that stops me dead in my tracks, something that I didn't think I would _ever_ see.

Stefan is dancing, but that's not even the weird part.

He's _smiling_ too.

I'm not entirely sure the way he's moving his body exactly qualifies as dancing, but he's bobbing his head to the obnoxious music and grinning ear to ear while some blonde, Caroline Forbes, flips her curls with a drunken smile on her face while they sway unsteadily to the beat emanating from the huge speakers in the foyer.

Stefan has been different ever since our father died. He and Giuseppe always shared a special bond, a lot like the one that I had with my mother before she passed away from cancer twelve years ago. I loved both my parents dearly, but my father and I were never as close as he and Stefan were, so when he died of a heart attack five years ago, it was my job to look after Stefan and bring him back from the edge, should he ever teeter on it.

I remember the promise I made to him like it was yesterday.

_It's been a week since my father passed and today is the first day Stefan and I went back to school, or at least it should have been, but imagine my surprise when I come home from a day in Mystic High Hell and Zach informs me that he got a call about Stefan not being in school today._

_Immediately, I go into panic mode. I've already lost my mother, I just lost my father; I can't lose my baby brother too. Without a word, I grab my car keys and start looking all over town. I drive by my old junior high school. Stefan still has one more year left there before he's in high school with me and I know he's practically counting down the days until he can join the junior football team. We've been practicing his throws so when the new season rolls around next September, he'll be ready._

_Finally, I drive by the cemetery and spot him sitting alone at the Salvatore family plot. All I want to do is yell at him, maybe punch him in the face for good measure. It would serve him right, scaring me like that. Instead, I take a deep breath and say nothing as I lower myself onto the ground beside him, twirling the dead November grass between my fingertips as I wait for him to say something. I know that even if I asked him to, Stefan wouldn't leave with me right now, and I'm not leaving without Stefan, so here we are._

_"I don't know if I can do this," Stefan confides quietly, breaking the silence as he swipes his hand against his wet cheek, his forehead bunched together and suddenly, I'm overwhelmed with grief. Not just because we're sitting in front of our parents' graves, but because Stefan is too young to be feeling like this. _

_I'm his big brother and it's my job to look after him, protect him. But I can't protect him from this__. D__eath isn't just another bully on the playground throwing punches and stealing Stefan's lunch money, it's a big, dark hole full of pain and sorrow, and as much as my body itches for a fight, those aren't punches that I can see or stop._

_"You can do this and if you can't, I will be there to pull you back." I don't know where the sentiment comes from as I make him this promise, but I know that I'm damn well going to keep it. "Every second of every day until you don't need me anymore."_

I come to myself and the music, the people, it all fades away into white noise sounding a blurry background as I walk away into the night. I have no direction in mind as my feet mindlessly carry me away from the party, but somehow I end up on the deserted road that lies just beyond the lot of trees that surround my house. Seeing my brother like that, after all these years of furrowed brows and endless brooding, seeing him so young and free left Rebekah long forgotten and blood flowing through my veins instead of alcohol.

Peace and quiet wash over me and in the otherwise dead silence of the night, my ears pick up nothing. I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't love the night. I've always found it hopeful and wonderful in a way that leaves me breathless.

"You're right, you and my mom both are..."

I turn my head at the unfamiliar voice, and there's a girl about Stefan's age with a cell phone glued to her ear. I roll my eyes. Another typical teenage girl, lost without her cell phone.

Sighing, I brush the dirt off my jeans as I stand up and I try to slip away as quietly as possible, but I can feel her eyes on my back and I turn around. Her eyes meet mine and my breath literally catches in my throat.

She is _gorgeous_, beautiful in a way that is effortlessly natural but still has my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

"Bonnie, I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? You too, bye." She tucks a long piece of hair behind her ear as she ends the call and slides her phone back into her pocket. She glances around, seeming to register that it's just the two of us before looking back at me with dark, intrigued eyes.

She folds her arms across her chest and arches a perfectly shaped brow at me, offering a small smirk in a silent dare for me to make the first move.

And I'm not one to back down from a challenge.


	3. Ships In The Night

**Author's Note: Thank you so much to each and every single one of you that has added this story to their favorites, follows and those of you that have reviewed. Every single one of those email notifications puts a huge smile on my face, and it means more to me than you will ever know. **

**I'm having such a blast writing this, and I'm so thankful to have _goldnox_ in my corner. This story wouldn't be what it is without her input and support, so for the millionth time but certainly not the last, thank you.**

**I hope you all enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know what you think :)**

**Chapter title comes from Mat Kearney's song _Ships In The Night._ Happy reading!**

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**Chapter Two: Ships in the Night**

**DAMON**

I was walking aimlessly the whole way here, fueled by my need to just get away from it all. And I'm close enough to the house that I can go back any time, but far enough away that I don't feel like I'm suffocating at the hands of demons I cannot name. But as soon as the long stretch of cool pavement that makes the winding road just beyond the trees of my house came into my line of sight, I was overwhelmed with the feeling that, for whatever reason, this is exactly where I needed to be.

And now I know why.

Every other girl at that party was decked out head to toe with dresses that leave less than little to the imagination and high heels that are sure to break ankles if you step the wrong way, make-up so heavy that I was genuinely left wondering if any of the girls there actually had a face of their own beneath all that crap.

But this girl is different, that much I know. God, she's _gorgeous_—beautiful in a way that is effortlessly natural but still has my heartbeat thundering in my ears. I can tell that she isn't trying to impress anybody with her jeans and combat boot combination and a red top that accentuates every curve of her delicious body covered by her leather jacket.

Trying or not, she's simple and stunning and sexy as hell.

I want to know her.

No.

I _need_ to know her.

"I'm Damon," I finally tell her and I hope that she can't hear the nervousness in my voice. Why am I nervous? She's just a girl for god sakes—except she's not.

"I'm Elena," she replies softly, smiling a little and I can't help but think about all the ways her name could roll off my tongue: a breathless whisper, a passionate moan, an exasperated sigh. She clears her throat a little, grabbing my attention yet again. "Not to be rude or anything, Damon, but it's kind of creepy that you're out here in the middle of nowhere."

Though I would hardly call this the middle of nowhere, I _can_ see her point and if I were her, I'd be cautious too. But there's something about this girl—_Elena_—that has me wanting to break all the rules and throw caution to the wind. I find myself hoping with a fierceness I've never felt before that she feels the same way.

I smirk a little. "You're one to talk. You're out here all by yourself."

"But I'm not by myself anymore, am I, Damon?" she volleys back, perfectly heart-shaped lips pulling up at the sides into a little smirk of her own and _fuck me_, she's stunning. "Besides, it's Mystic Falls. Nothing bad ever happens here."

"On the contrary, _Elena_," I drawl her name out, my tongue wrapping around each syllable and caressing it with a gentleness I didn't know I had. "Not a lot of good things happen here either. Or if they do, they don't stay that way for very long."

"You say that like everything good is doomed to end sooner or later."

"I'm a fatalist," I reply flippantly before sitting back down and stretching out on my back in the middle of the road. From this angle, I can see that the curves of her body are even more beautiful than I thought. I pat the spot next to me in a silent invitation for her to join me but all I hear is her gasp of surprise.

"Are you crazy?"

"Crazy is relative." I crane my neck back a little to double check our surroundings, my ears picking up nothing but the sound of our breathing in the light October breeze, and I quickly determine that we are in no immediate danger. "Relax," I lace my hands behind my head and grin up at her. "It's just the two of us."

"That's my point exactly." Elena bites her lip nervously as she sweeps all her hair to one side, revealing the long column of her throat and it's truly a testament to my self-restraint that I don't have her pinned against the nearest tree with my tongue tracing the veins that run beneath the skin of her neck. "For all I know, you could be an axe-murderer or something."

Okay, it's not exactly the direction I was hoping she'd take my invitation, but at least it's not a flat-out no. "Does your gut tell you that I'm an axe-murderer or something?"

Elena takes a deep breath and looks around one more time before finally settling herself down next to me, and I hope that my relief isn't as obvious as it feels because every nerve-ending in my body is screaming at me that I _need_ to know her and I honestly don't know what I'd do if she had turned around and walked away from me.

She stretches her long legs and leans backwards beside me so we're side by side before she answers my question. "No," she replies softly, turning her head a little and looking up at me from beneath her long lashes. "My gut tells me that you're a different kind of dangerous."

I watch in silent bewilderment as she lets out a deep breath and focuses her attention on the night sky like she _didn't_ just change everything I thought I knew about her with those eleven words. Elena caught me off guard, a real feat in itself because no one and I mean _no one_ ever catches me off guard. I pride myself on the ability to think fast on my feet and talk myself in and out of virtually anything but for the very first time, I'm speechless.

I blink back my surprise and look down at her hands that are folded across her stomach and I see her dainty wrist adorned in a simple charm bracelet. From what I can see, there are only one or two charms so far and I can't help but wonder where or who they're from. Did her parents give her the bracelet? Or was it one of her friends? A boyfriend, maybe?

Oh please, _not_ a boyfriend. Anyone but a boyfriend.

I start to go over the different constellations in my head in an attempt to calm down when Elena breaks the comfortable silence that lingers between us. "My friend dragged me to the party just over there." She gestures beyond the trees with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But then she disappeared with the host and now I'm stranded because I got into a fight with my boyfriend—well, now my _ex-_boyfriend."

I'm silent as I wait for the relief that comes from hearing that she's available, but it doesn't come and I think it's tied to the surprising concept of anyone leaving Elena behind if they could help it. "It's his loss," I say, and I have to bite my cheeks to keep myself from grinning when I turn my head and see that she's trying to hide her blush.

If it were anybody else, any other girl, I'd be laying the charm on thick and smooth right about now. But she isn't like any other girl. I don't know _what_ kind of girl she is; I just know that she's unlike anyone I've ever met before. I decide to change the subject to something more neutral—well, as neutral as I can be while satisfying my ever growing curiosity. "So, this boyfriend. May I ask what you fought about?"

Elena takes her bottom lip between her teeth, and I bite back a groan and think of all things related to Nana Salvatore in an attempt to keep all the blood in my body rushing south of the border. "Life. The future—_our_ future," she confides quietly and I exhale. "Every single little detail, every moment, it's all planned out for us."

I clear my throat. "And you don't want it?"

Her eyebrows pull together on a deep breath and she looks so damn sad. "I don't know what I want," she admits quietly, and her voice is laced with every doubt and insecurity that I wish I could take away from her shoulders and carry myself.

"I don't think that's true at all."

"You don't?"

"No, I don't. You want what everybody wants."

Elena looks thoughtful for a moment before she rolls onto her side, and I try not to trace the curves of her body with my eyes as she readjusts her head to rest on her hand. She looks me straight in the eye with a little bit of amusement, a little bit of curiosity, and a lot of something else that I don't yet have a name for.

But whatever it is, it makes me slowly roll onto my side so that we're now facing each other. We're close enough that I could reach out and sweep her hair behind her ear if I want to—and _God, _do I want to. But like the many other urges I've fought back tonight, I push it away until all I'm thinking about is the look on Elena's face.

"You want a love that consumes you." I watch as surprise and awe flickers across Elena's delicate features, and something inside of me ignites, spurring me on. I welcome the feeling with open arms. "You want passion, adventure and even a little danger."

In the waiting silence, her previous words echo in my head.

_You're a different kind of dangerous_.

For the first time all night, I think I finally understand what she means.

"What about you?" she asks quietly, so quietly I barely heard her over my pounding heart. "What do you want?"

I open my mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. Jesus Christ, this girl has literally rendered me speechless _again_. I can't remember the last time that someone even bothered to ask me what _I _want. I suppose it's a good thing, because I have a strong feeling that I would have never been able to really answer them anyway.

Until now.

But I've known this girl for all of five seconds and okay, I'm forward and blunt with almost everybody in my life. But I'm not so much of a dick that I'm about to come onto a seventeen-year-old, emotionally vulnerable girl that I had the pleasure of meeting just minutes after she broke up with her boyfriend—no matter how badly I want to.

So I do what I do best, and I deflect.

"That's for me to know and you to _dot dot dot_..." I trail off with a small smirk, and she cocks her head back in laughter and _Heaven help me_, it's the cutest fucking laugh that I've ever heard in my life.

Yeah, deflection's the best.

"Are you always like this?"

I smirk a little. "What? Dashing? Gorgeous? Irresistible?"

"Wow, cocky much?" Elena asks, laughing a little and I think that her laughter just might be my new favorite sound.

"I have _very_ good reasons to be cocky."

"So do I, but you don't hear me bragging about it."

"I believe you just did." I pause, my curiosity piqued. "And what, pray tell, do you have to brag about?"

Her beautiful brown eyes hold a sparkle that could rival any star in the sky when she throws me a cheeky grin. "That's for me to know and you to _dot dot dot_..."

I'm stunned.

Not only does this girl play my game, but she plays it better than me.

Elena starts laughing all over again when my ears faintly pick up the sound of tires approaching on the gravel. "Shit! Get up!" I say urgently, my instincts kicking in as I jump to my feet and take her with me.

"What's wrong?" she asks breathlessly, but I just tuck her under my arm and hurry—ignoring the smell of her intoxicating perfume mixing with the crisp nighttime air—until we're safely at the side of the road and I heave a breath of relief. "Jesus, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I heard a car coming and I guess I just panicked," I say as I try to recall the exact moment I lost my balls to this girl.

Elena looks over her shoulder and then back to me, smiling a little and if I'm not wrong, she looks a little _too_ fucking smug for my taste. "That's my ride."

"What?"

"That's my parents' car." She starts giggling and I roll my eyes because I just made myself look like a total idiot, overreacting the way I did and throwing myself into protective mode when I've known this girl for all of five seconds. "But that was very sweet—my very own white knight in shining armor coming to my rescue."

I swallow around the lump in my throat that grew ten times in size at the sentiment, because I am _anything_ but heroic. To be honest, I don't know what came over me. I acted on instinct and my instincts told me to get Elena out of harm's way as quickly as possible.

I try not to think about what that could mean as I playfully roll my eyes. "I'm not a hero, Elena. And I don't do sweet_ or_ any of that white knight crap."

"Okay, then you can be my dark knight."

I take a small step towards her so we're standing toe to toe, and I try not to notice the way her breath hitches in her throat when I run my tongue over my bottom lip to bite back my smile. "I think I can do that," I murmur, finally succumbing to at least one of my urges and playing with a strand of her soft hair before I finally tuck it behind her ear.

She nods her head in a daze and my stomach sinks when the car pulls to a stop just a few feet away from us, and I swear she looks just as disappointed as I feel. I'm overwhelmed with the urge to say something, _anything_ to make her stay here with me. But I'm sidetracked by the feeling of her soft lips pressed up against my cheek before she pulls away, blushing profusely.

"Goodnight, Damon."

"Goodnight, Elena."

I watch her climb into the back seat before the vehicle drives off into the distance. And I'm not sure why, but I have a feeling that this isn't goodbye for us.


	4. The World Keeps on Turning

**Author's Note: Thank you so much everyone, I'm so relieved that everyone seems to be liking this story, and it makes writing it a whole lot easier knowing that it's being appreciated and well received!**

**I can't thank _goldnox_ enough. I needed her more than ever for this chapter, or at least I thought I did before she told me how proud she was of me and almost bringing me to tears more than once with her praises. I'm overwhelmed and so blessed so an extremely special shout out to her. Her last name should be Salvatore, as in savior ;)**

**Chapter title comes from Fleetwood Mac's _The World Keeps on Turning. _Happy reading (I hope), enjoy and please don't forget to leave a review!  
**

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**Chapter Three: The World Keeps on Turning**

**ELENA**

I peel my eyes open, and I barely lift my head from my pillow when my bedroom door flies open and in comes my aunt Jenna, slipping and sliding on the hardwood floor in her favorite pair of bunny slippers in her obvious haste to get away as quickly as possible. I'm about to ask her what the hell she's doing in my room at—I glance at the clock and sigh heavily—six o'clock in the morning, but then I hear my mom yelling from somewhere downstairs and I try my best not to laugh.

"Jennifer Margaret Sommers! I'm going to kill you, and then I'm going to bring you back to life just to kill you again!"Mom exclaims, and I watch Jenna quickly fumble with the lock on the doorknob before she slides down to the floor and heaves what sounds to be a sigh of relief.

She should thank her lucky stars that I was already drifting in and out of consciousness when she ran into my bedroom like a bat out of hell, because I'm a lot of things but a morning person has never been and never will be one of them. I think my family learned that pretty quickly when Jeremy tried to wake me up one Christmas morning.

It's the first day of November and when I throw back my comforter to stretch my sleepy limbs, my skin is kissed by the chilly fresh air coming in through the small crack of my open window. I finally drag myself out of bed and pull on my favorite sweater over my tank-top and pajama shorts before sliding down next to my aunt Jenna. There are a million questions and a lot of laughter on the tip of my tongue as she presses her ear against the door and silences me with a sharp look before I even have the chance to say anything.

"I may or may not have—accidentally, by the way—backed your mom's car into the garage door when I came back last night and now she's throwing a hissy fit because God forbid she has to drive around town with a bumper-less car until it gets fixed." She stops breathing for a second and her eyes widen fearfully. "Oh God, she's coming."

I'm mid eye-roll about her dramatic behavior when I hear my mom ask Jeremy if he's seen Jenna, and I glance over my shoulder to give Jenna an apologetic look because if history has taught me anything, it's that my brother can't keep a secret to save his life. There are many incidences that I'm sure if I were to think long and hard about enough, I would be able to get mad at him all over again.

"Yeah, I think she's hiding in Elena's room. Hey, is there really a—"

"Just go get ready for school," Mom tells him, and I've barely moved out of the way before she too yanks open my bedroom door. I'm pretty sure that if looks could kill, my aunt would be dead on the floor right now. "You're paying for the damages. Where did you go last night, anyways? Richmond juvie center where the delinquents were _told_ to spray-paint genitalia on my brand new car?"

My eyebrows jump on my forehead. "Wait, genitalia? You mean..."

"Yes, Elena! I mean a _penis_! Someone drew a penis on my car!" Mom pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs heavily. "Oh, what the neighbors must be thinking right now."

Jeremy pokes his head in through our shared bathroom with a grin on his face. "Don't worry about it, Mom. They probably know that Jenna's in town so I'm sure they were expecting it." He has a mouthful of toothpaste and I try not to laugh when I hear an indignant scoff from Jenna, who has taken to hiding behind me.

Jeremy's totally right. I can't remember the last time that Jenna came down for a visit, no matter how brief, and something monumentally interesting _didn't_ happen during her stay. Like two summers ago, we were all camping in the backyard but and she thought it would be okay to put the bonfire out with a bottle of vodka because was drunk and she swore it would do the same as water.

Or the time when we were getting our roof redone and she had set her sights on one of the shirtless construction workers, so she dressed up and started to climb the ladder with a bottle of champagne in one hand and two flutes in the other. Even when she fell down, she shamelessly flirted with the worker and not only did she get a twisted ankle, but she somehow scored his cell number too.

"Hurry up and get ready," Mom shushes him, although I can hear the warmth in her voice as she does so. "Your father is taking you to school today and you can't be late again." She looks at the time on her watch and then up at me. "Shouldn't you be getting ready too?"

"I have a free period."

School has always been important to me, but I wanted my senior year to be more than the curriculum. I wanted memories that didn't revolve around me studying until the wee hours of the morning, so I took an extra course over the summer so I would have a little flexibility with my schedule this semester.

"Well your father has to be at work in twenty minutes and after we drop Jeremy off, I have a meeting with Mrs. Lockwood." Mom's voice drops as she mumbles in frustration to herself, "And I have no idea when I'm going to get the car into the shop…" She shakes her head and blows out a breath, looking back at me. "Anyways, I won't be here to take you to school…do you think you can get a ride with someone?"

"Yeah, Bonnie already said she'd pick me up. But if you need me to, I can take the car into the shop and she can just pick me up from there."

"Do you think there's any way you could pick it up this afternoon? I wouldn't ask but your dad's not getting off until late and I won't have a way to get two cars home…"

"No problem, Mom." I smile and she breathes a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, honey."

"Wait, what happened to Matt?" Jenna asks, taking a seat on the edge of my bed with her arms crossed and I can feel Mom's curious eyes on my face too. "Shouldn't _he_ be doing all of this? Or is chivalry really dead?"

I was really hoping to avoid this conversation for as long as possible. After I called my parents on Friday night, they picked me up and I was immediately bombarded with questions about what went wrong at the party. Which was nice, because I was too busy focusing on counting all the colors in a new pair blue eyes versus the old ones I'd become accustomed to. I wasn't in the mood to get into it so I just told them that I'd explain everything later. But it's a new day and they're gonna find out anyway so I decide to just bite the bullet. "I broke up with Matt on Friday."

Based on my mom's expression, it seems like she had already suspected as much. Jenna, on the other hand, looks like a deer caught in headlights. "What? Why? What happened?" she gasps, thoroughly intrigued and looking every bit the gossiping teenager I know she once was, no matter how many times she claims to have not cared about any of that stuff.

"It's...complicated." Okay, it's really not that complicated, but I don't want to start my week off by rehashing my very first break-up. I feel bad enough as it is without going over, probably word by word, how I broke Matt's heart the other night.

"Miranda, Jeremy! It's time to go, I'm gonna be late!" Dad calls from downstairs before adding, "Bye 'Lena! Bye Jenna!"

Mom takes my face in her hands and kisses my forehead before smiling softly. "We'll talk about this later, okay?" I nod my head and return the smile. "Love you, have a good day at school and make sure you hold that beautiful head of yours up high. And Jenna," Mom says, a little more loud and a lot more instructive, "try not to burn my house down while we're gone."

"I don't make promises I can't keep," Jenna calls after her, my mom and my brother heading downstairs to join my dad. As soon as we hear the front door slam shut, Jenna yanks me down on the bed so I'm sitting beside her. Her eyes are wide with curiosity as she glances over her shoulder at the clock on my nightstand before grinning. "You have about an hour until you have to leave. Tell me _everything_."

I blow out a breath, letting my mind replay the whole deterioration of my relationship.

_I'm holding Matt's hand as we walk across the quad with Bonnie, who is animatedly jabbering on and on about her psychic tendencies as she makes her latest prediction with bright eyes. _

_"I'm telling you, flare jeans are going to make a comeback."_

_Warmly rolling my eyes, I laugh. "Bonnie, that doesn't make you psychic. It just means that you watch too much Top Model." I would know, since I spent the entire weekend at Bonnie's with Caroline while they argued over who would win._

_"Whatever. Psychic or not, I have a weird feeling about the party tonight."_

_"Oh yeah, I don't think that I can make it tonight." Bonnie looks disappointed but understanding, but when I turn my head towards Matt and see his crestfallen expression, I can't help but feel guilty for bailing. Even if it is for a good reason. "Jenna's in town and my parents want to do family night."_

_"Skip it," Matt suggests like it's no problem at all, and I grit my teeth to keep from snapping at him. _

_It's times like this when I try to be understanding and not get too pissed off, but I can't help but be a little annoyed. Matt's family isn't like mine, and he doesn't get that I look forward to spending this quality time with my family. Jenna is a psychology major at Whitmore College in Richmond and it's not often that she can come down to visit, not to mention stay for longer than a night or two. And I enjoy family night, but now that Jenna's back, I'm looking forward to it all the more._

_Over his shoulder, Tyler Lockwood and a couple of other guys from the football team call Matt's name. He turns back to me with that cute grin on his face, and I try to remember what it felt like to have butterflies in my stomach whenever I used to see that smile, but I can't._

_"I've gotta go see Coach Tanner." Matt presses a quick kiss to my lips and I try not to think too much about what it means that I can't help but feel like kissing him feels more wrong than it does right. "I love you. Bye Bonnie!"_

_Bonnie waves a friendly goodbye before turning towards me with an unreadable expression on her face. "You didn't say it back," she says once Matt's out of earshot. "And don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. It's not fair to string him along, Elena. If you're not into it anymore, you should just tell him."_

_I open my mouth, but close it when I can't find the words and thankfully, she switches the subject to something that isn't emotionally draining until the bell rings and then we go our separate ways to class._

_My peace from thinking about English doesn't last long enough, though, because Caroline corners me immediately after my last class of the morning. Apparently Bonnie had filled her in, and now she's demanding an explanation for why I wouldn't be going to the party tonight, and I know right away that I'm going to end up in attendance whether I want to or not._

_I'm thankful that the rest of my day goes by fairly quickly. After school, I head straight home to shower and change into clothes for tonight, apologizing again and again to my parents for not being home for family night, all the while secretly hoping they'll forbid me from going to this party._

_But they don't._

_Instead, my dad is more than willing to give me a ride to Caroline's. He pulls up in front of her house, waving to the Sheriff as she gets into her patrol car and heads off to work for the evening shift. _

_"Call us if you need anything," Dad says, kissing me on the cheek. "Love you!"_

_We hang around Caroline's house for the next few hours until it's time to go. She's bouncing in her seat with excitement the entire cab ride and once we get there, in typical Caroline fashion, she ditches me in favor of hooking up with a hot guy, and I'm left standing alone in the middle of a crowded room._

_Matt is already a few drinks in by the time that I find him and I spend most of my night with his heavy arm around my shoulder, laughing at his jokes when the time calls for it and smiling politely at his football buddies when they join us for more drinks._

_"You're such a good girlfriend, 'Lena," Matt says once we're alone, pressing a sloppy kiss to my cheek. "I can't wait to marry you one day." I look up at him and I'm overwhelmed with guilt. His baby blue eyes are a little hazy from the alcohol, and his words are slurring together, but I know in my heart that he means every single one._

_"I can't wait for our future," he continues, and I hold my breath. "College and marriage and babies, we're gonna be so happy together."_

_"Matt…" I begin, but I actually have no idea what to say. He looks so hopeful and so in love with me, and it breaks my heart in two because if I felt a fraction for him what he feels for me, I would have no doubt in my mind that I'd happily spend the rest of my life as Elena Donovan._

_But I don't feel the same way that he does. I mean, I love Matt. Of course I do. How could I not? He was my first everything: my first best friend, first kiss, first boyfriend, first love, first time. I was his first everything too, but the difference between us is that he also wants me to be his last everything and I don't. _

_I mean, I'm seventeen years old. How am I supposed to know what I'll want ten, twenty, thirty years down the line? I don't know what it is that I want for the rest of my life but somehow I know that this isn't it._

_"I think we should just be friends," I blurt out. I honestly had no intention of breaking up with him right on the spot, but as the words leave my mouth, I can feel a heavy weight being lifted off my chest and shoulders and I know immediately that I'm making the right call._

_"Elena—"_

_"I can't deal with this right now, I'm sorry." I shake my head apologetically and back away from him before he can stop me and try to make me change my mind. I rush past him and quickly make my way through the throng of people and then I'm outside, taking a deep breath and letting the cool night air fill my lungs._

_I glance around and when I see where I am, I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding. I've only been on this side of town once or twice, but I know there's a small clearing on the other side of the trees that line this property. I decide to call my parents and have them pick me up there. This night didn't go the way that I thought it would, at all, and now all I want to do is go home, have a hot bath and curl up in bed._

_Someone picks up on the second ring. "Hello?"_

_"Hey, it's me."_

_"Elena! Your dad is making me play Pictionary," Jenna says by way of a greeting. I can hear the smile in her voice, and I wish for the hundredth time that I'd stayed home tonight. "I suck at Pictionary."_

_I can hear Dad in the background. "You sure do."_

_"Bite me, Grayson!"_

_"Jenna," I interrupt tiredly before they start bickering and forget I'm on the phone altogether. "Do you think someone could come pick me up?"_

_"Is someone having second thoughts about ditching family night?" Jenna asks, her tone light and teasing, then there's some mumbling in the background and I'm thankful when Mom comes on the phone._

_"Elena? Is everything okay?"_

_"Matt and I got into a fight. He started talking about college and marriage and I just…I couldn't deal with it anymore. So I left."_

_"He doesn't really care about that stuff, honey. He just wants to know how you feel about him."_

_I look down at the toes of my combat boots and kick some spare gravel. "I don't know how I feel."_

_"Yes you do," she says softly. "You're just afraid to admit it."_

_You hear stories all the time about friends becoming lovers, but never lovers becoming friends. And before everything, Matt was my best friend first. I don't want to lose that._

_"I don't want to lose him, Mom. He's my best friend." _

_"You won't lose him. You're setting him free." _

I sigh in relief when the sign for _Mystic Falls Automotive _comes into view. Today is going to be such a long day, not that Mondays ever seem to run short, but with the promise of whispers travelling down the halls of mine and Matt's breakup, I already know that it's just going to make everything worse. And when I told my mom that I'd be more than happy to take her car into the shop for her, I wasn't lying, but I didn't realize how awkward it would be to drive through town with the car looking like this. The residents of Mystic Falls will surely have plenty more to gossip about as the week goes on, but this is one hell of a way to get the rumor mill rolling.

There's an empty spot in the garage, next to one of the town's many minivans, so I pull up there and grab my bag from the passenger seat before getting out of the car and making my way inside and towards the counter.

"Hey, Elena, how are ya, kid?" George, the owner, puts his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone to greet me. "I'm on the hold with the parts warehouse, is it urgent?" I nod my head apologetically, holding my schoolbag up by means of explanation and he smiles understandingly. "Hold on, I'll get someone else. Salvatore! Customer!"

I start digging through my bag for my cell phone so I can text Bonnie and let her know that I'm almost done here.

"Elena?"

I look up at the sound of my name, and I'm pretty sure that my heart rate goes through the roof.

"Damon?"


	5. Sparks Fly

**Author's Note: I sound like a broken record, but thank you to everyone that has favorited, followed and reviewed this story. It makes me happier than you know when I get an email regarding _Fireside. _I've had so much fun writing this, and I can't wait until everyone sees what I've got up my sleeve for this story. **

**A huge thank you goes out to my wonderfully talented beta, _goldnox_, who without her, I'm pretty sure my story would look something like: _the quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog._ Seriously, I'm so thankful for her and I look forward to working with her on future chapters. When you're done here, go check out her second AU/AH story "Order Up." Damon's got eyes for Elena and it's adorable. **

**Chapter title comes from Taylor Swift's _Sparks Fly_. Happy reading!**

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**Chapter Four: Sparks Fly**

**ELENA**

"I'm not usually a fan of surprises, but you may have just changed my entire outlook on that," Damon says with that sexy smirk of his, and I can feel my heart do somersaults inside of my chest. If I thought he was stunning the other night, seeing Damon in the light of day puts him in a whole other league of beauty.

I somehow manage to speak around the lump of nerves lodged in my throat. "Well, I'm all about the element of surprise." I mentally roll my eyes at myself. The little alcohol I'd consumed Friday helped lower my inhibitions and strengthen my bravery for our talk, but now I'm as nervous as I was when I went up against April Young in our fourth-grade Spelling Bee.

Ignoring the amused look on his face that does absolutely nothing to ease my nerves, I take a deep breath and divert my attention to our surroundings.

It's your typical auto-body shop: car lifts, racks of tires, a washing station. It feels like I stepped into the _Greased Lightning_ musical number, only except for John Travolta decked in all black, it's Damon with his dark-wash jeans and tight black t-shirt that highlights every contour of lean muscle he's hiding beneath the material.

I hope my face doesn't give away all the dirty thoughts that are running through my mind; shirtless Damon working under cars, his muscles flexing and bulging as he jacks up a car to replace a tire, sweaty Damon, greasy Damon—_Damon, Damon, Damon_.

"So, a mechanic, huh?" I finally find my voice, and although it's a lot shakier than I intended it to be, it's not high-pitched and squeaky like it would have been if I was thirteen again and talking to my dad's attractive co-worker that just got out of med school. "I had no idea."

He makes his way over to me and I don't miss the sexy swagger in every step that he takes. It's effortless. "I must have been too busy helping you with your existential crisis and saving your life to mention it," he replies playfully before his gaze shifts to the car. I watch with baited breath as he licks his lips to whistle as he takes in the damage. I wish he had asked me to do it for him. "Damn, and here I was worried that my Monday morning would be boring."

"You can fix it, right?" I ask, because I'll need to tell my parents something about their car other than all the less than appropriate fantasies I had about our new mechanic.

"Absolutely." He leans his head towards me and covers his mouth in a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm _very_ talented with my hands." I'm pretty sure that my cheeks catch on fire and the jerk that he is_ laughs_. "It should be ready by the end of the day, tomorrow at the latest."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bonnie's blue Honda pull up into the lot and I suppress a sigh. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that my friends and family had some sort of radar when I was around hot older guys because this is the second time that our interactions have been cut short. I didn't like it the first time, and I don't like it now.

I quickly go into my bag and rip a piece of paper out of one of my many notebooks and write down the house number and my cell before giving it to Damon. "Just call whenever it's ready," I tell him before grabbing my stuff and throwing him a little wave. "It was nice seeing you, Damon."

"_Great_ seeing you too, Elena," he replies with a knowing grin, and I'm pretty sure my cheeks are the same color as that red fire hydrant down by the sidewalk.

I all but run out of the shop and when I get into the car, Bonnie has a curious smile on her face as she looks between me and Damon who is now standing at the mouth of the garage, arms folded across his chest and that stupidly sexy smirk on his face as he looks between me and the paper in his hands.

"Damn, 'Lena. Who _is_ that?" Bonnie asks me as we pull out of the lot and onto the road towards school. My eyes gravitate to the rear-view mirror and I see that he's still standing there, watching the car as we drive away.

"I don't know," is my only reply, because all I know about Damon is that he's a mystery that I want to spend all my free time solving. I can feel Bonnie's inquisitive gaze on me, and I'm pretty sure that she's a mind reader or something so I decide to switch topics. "So how was your weekend at Grams'?"

"She spent the whole weekend telling me that I'm psychic; our ancestors were from Salem, witches and all that. She kept going on and on about it, and I'm like, _put this woman in a home already!_ But then I started thinking about all the predictions I've already made, and how most of them have come true_._"

I roll my eyes. "Like what?"

"I told you that Mr. Miller was gonna get fired, didn't I?"

"Yeah, because he was caught flirting with one of his students!"

Bonnie purses her lips with narrowed eyes. "What about when I said that Caroline would become cheer captain this year?"

"You mean after she _demanded_ the spot?"

"Whatever, I'm still psychic!"

I can't help but laugh a little. "Can you predict something, about me?" I ask playfully as Bonnie pulls into her regular spot in the school parking lot.

"Nope."

"What? Why not?"

"Because your future, Elena Gilbert, is a mystery to me."

The two of us head inside and make our way through the throng of people crowding the hallways, stopping by our lockers to grab our books and head to class. I notice Matt across the hall, and my heart sinks.

Bonnie follows my gaze to where Matt is standing in front of his locker in his letterman jacket, music blaring from his headphones. It's hard to miss the sadness in his eyes when he spots me in the hallway before he slams his locker door shut and takes off in the opposite direction.

"Have you talked to him at all since Friday?"

"No. He hates me," I sigh sadly, slumping against my locker.

"The Monday after the break-up is always the hardest. And he doesn't hate you, 'Lena. He's just in phase one: it's the _she dumped me but I'm way too cool to show it but secretly I'm listening to Air Supply and Foreigner's Greatest Hits on repeat stage. _He'll get over it eventually, but you just have to give him some time."

"How do you know?"

Bonnie rolls her eyes indignantly. "I'm psychic, remember?"

"Elena Gilbert! Oh _my_ God!" Caroline Forbes is a flurry of blonde curls and sparkly high-heels as she throws herself at me, wrapping me up in a tight hug and all but squeezing the life out of me. She really is strong for such a tiny little thing. "I heard about what happened with you and Matt and I'm _so_ sorry!"

I send Bonnie a look over Caroline's shoulder, but she just purses her lips in amusement and I can tell that she's trying hard not to laugh. _Traitor._ I pat Caroline's back in what I hope is a comforting manner because she tends to take other peoples breakups just as hard as she takes her own. Which is really, really hard.

"Caroline. I can't breathe." She pulls away immediately, an apologetic look on her face and I can't help but smile fondly before taking a deep breath and readying myself for this conversation. "Yes, Matt and I broke up but it's really not that big of a deal. It was a long time coming and I'm okay, really, but if it's okay with you, I don't really wanna talk about it anymore."

"Does that mean I can tell you my story?" she asks hopefully and we all laugh because Caroline _always_ has a story to tell. It's never a dull moment being her friend. "Okay, so at first I thought the party would be totally lame, right? But then I met a boy! His name is Stefan Salvatore. He lives at the old Salvatore Boarding House with his brother and his uncle. He's a Gemini, his favorite color is blue and he's never seen _The Notebook_, can you believe it? I can't wait to take his _Notebook_ virginity!"

"You got all of that from one party?" I ask, though I can't say I'm surprised. Last year, there was a new student in our Biology class and Caroline spent the entire period grilling him about his life story. By the end of class, everyone in that room knew his previous and current home address, social security number and medical history.

"I don't like to waste time," she tells us before beaming that beautiful _Caroline_ smile that can light up an entire room. There are just some people in life that you can't help but think should never do anything but smile, and Caroline is one of those people. "We're planning a June wedding!"

The three of us stand around my locker until the first bell rings, talking about weddings and color schemes and bridesmaids dresses, and then we all head to our classes with a promise to Caroline that we'll continue this conversation at lunch because, "_We haven't even begun to cover floral arrangements!"_

"Hello delinquents," Coach Tanner says as we walk into History class. He's not a very friendly teacher, or person, for that matter. I'm not even sure that his new position as our History teacher has anything to do with his experience or love for the subject as much as it has to do with budget cuts.

I think I've only seen Coach Tanner smile all of one time in the four years that I've been here, and it was when Miss Flemming, the science teacher—Biology, Chemistry and Physics alike—stopped by the classroom for a few minutes. She's not a very friendly or personable teacher either, but she's really good at her job and I was pleased to know that it would be her teaching me everything that I needed to know.

I know a lot of people say that your grades during your first two years of high school don't necessarily matter on college applications, but I'm eager to get good grades in all my classes, especially since I want to apply for early admission to Whitmore College to study medicine like my dad.

Once everybody is seated, Coach Tanner wastes no time in jumping right into today's work. "I've decided to put you into pairs for this assignment so maybe you'll do better than last time. So quiet down and listen up because I'm only saying this once: Tyler Lockwood and Aimee Bradley, Jules Wolfe and Brady Moon, Elena Gilbert and Stefan Salvatore..."

I roll my eyes, simply because I know that Caroline will go _nuts_ once she hears of this partnership. Mentally, I crack my knuckles because I know that I'll inevitably be playing matchmaker and dragging her along to study sessions with Stefan.

"Hey." I smile up at Stefan and move my bag so he can slide into the empty seat next to me. I don't know him all that well; he's pretty quiet and shy, but the handful of times that I _have_ talked to him, he's been really nice.

"Hey," he replies with a smile, emerald eyes sparkling and I can't help but picturing what his babies with Caroline would look like. "I saw you at the party on Friday but you didn't stay long. Sorry that I'm a terrible host, I was kind of caught up with someone."

I bite my lip to keep from laughing. "It's totally fine, and the party was great. I was just dealing with some...personal stuff."

"It was actually supposed to be just a few close friends but it kind of got out of hand. I don't think my brother was too pleased with me."

Coach Tanner makes his way back to the front of the class and clears his throat. "Now that everyone has their partner, please turn to page sixty-four of your textbooks. I'll explain the assignment to you and then you have the rest of today's class to start but after that, you'll have to work with your partner on your own time."

As it turns out, the assignment is pretty complicated. Stefan and I decide that it would probably be best for us to get started as soon as possible, and we make plans to get together at his house later on today.

I quickly duck into the bathroom after class to freshen up, and I run into Caroline - literally. Once I tell her about the latest development, I have to clamp my hand over her mouth to quiet her squeals of excitement. Once she calms herself, she makes me promise to put in a good word for her whenever I can, as if she has to ask. I take the opportunity to text my parents and let them know about this afternoon.

Thankfully, the rest of the day flies by and I'm out of school and in the passenger seat of Stefan's car in no time.

"It's not every day you see something like this on the streets of Mystic Falls," I say, admiring Stefan's car. I don't know much about it other than it is red, one of my favorite colors.

"The Salvatores are all about the classics."

"What kind of car is it?"

"1963 Porsche 356KB Karmann Coupe," he recites as he mouths the lyrics to the song on the radio, something about a guy that's wanted dead or alive. "I don't have the same love affair with cars as my dad did or my brother does, but if you're around mechanics long enough, you can only get away with calling it a _red Porsche_ for so long."

It's impossible to miss the affection—or nostalgia—in his voice as he talks about his family. I don't know much about Stefan other than the mini biography Caroline provided me with this morning, but there's something about the tone of his words that leaves me with a heavy heart.

I want to ask about it, but I don't want to pry so instead I venture into what I hope is safer territory. "Are all the Salvatores mechanics?"

"No," he smiles a little, shaking his head. "It was just a hobby for my dad—he was a businessman through and through—but it's a lifestyle for my brother. If he's not at home or with Rose, I can almost guarantee that he's at the garage."

We pull into the driveway at his house, and I can't help but notice the presence of _another_ classic car, a light blue...something. "That's my brother's car," Stefan tells me without prompt as he parks behind it. "It's a 1969 Chevy Camaro convertible. I'm pretty sure it's the love of his life."

"Boys and their toys," I mutter as we make our way inside.

Stefan quickly excuses himself to go get his laptop and anything else we might need to get started, and I'm left alone in the middle of the living room and while I wait, I drink in every beautiful antique and ornate detail of this very large, rustic house. And I'm just in the middle of staring slack jawed at what I'm guessing is a priceless lamp when I hear a creak in the old wooden floorboards.

I'm not a big believer in ghosts or the supernatural, but if a ghost were to haunt any house, I'd bet my money that it would be one just like this. I hold my breath and turn on my heel, and it feels like all the air has been knocked out of my lungs when I lock eyes with Damon.

His lips pull up into that sexy smirk of his before he says, "We have _got_ to stop meeting like this."

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**Author's Note: Don't blame me for all these little cliffhangers at the end of seemingly every chapter, my beta said that it'll keep you guys wanting more...is it working? ;)**

**Please leave a review, love it or hate it, I wanna hear what you guys have to say. Thank you so much, until next time! *hugs all of you***


	6. D Is For Dangerous

**Author's Note: Hello again! So, I'm running out of creative ways to say thank you to all of you for all of your support. Every single favorite, review and follow makes me so beyond happy. **

**Words can't express how much I appreciate all of you, but a special thanks and appreciation shout out goes to _goldnox_. As it turns out, she's an even better friend than she is a beta, something that I didn't think was entirely possible. She's amazing and writes the sweetest heart-felt emails when I've had a bad day on Twitter. I'm so thankful and happy to be working with her.**

**When you're done here (after leaving a review, of course ;) you should totally head over to her page and check out "Order Up." If you think the first few chapters are good, take my word for it when I tell you that it only gets better.**

**Chapter title comes from Arctic Monkeys song _D Is For Dangerous. _Happy reading!**

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**Chapter Five: D Is For Dangerous**

**DAMON **

I don't believe in fate or destiny or any of that the-universe-has-a-plan-for-you crap. I think you're born with one life, and what you do with it and who you spend it with is up to you. The idea that someone else has control over everything you do and every move you make, your life being in someone else's hands, I think it's a concept far scarier than not knowing at all.

Fate and destiny implies lack of control, and I like being in control. I don't necessarily mean in a kinky way—okay, maybe I do—but what I'm trying to say is this is _my_ life, and anyone else having a say in where and when I end and begin is something that I'm not okay with.

And I'm also not a huge fan of life mottos—Stefan ruined that for me when _The Lion King _came out and he ran around the house singing Hakuna Matata every day for three weeks straight, and I ended up burying the VHS tape in our backyard—but if I _were_ a fan of mottos, then I'd choose that Invictus guy. I'm all about his cause: "I am the master of my fate, I am the Captain of my soul," and all that jazz. He totally has a point.

But putting all of that destiny bullshit aside, even I have to admit that _something_ is going on between me and Elena. It feels like we're being drawn together by something inexplicable, and neither one of us is pulling away. It's a thought that both thrills and terrifies me.

The old floorboards creak beneath my feet as I walk up behind her, and the sound alerts her to my presence before my words can. She spins around on the balls of her feet too quickly, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing when she almost loses her balance before righting herself with a huff. Don't get me wrong, I would have swooped in and caught her before she fell and caused any real damage to that beautiful body of hers, but her lack of coordination makes her blush and I fucking love it when she blushes.

"We have _got_ to stop meeting like this," I tease and the color in her cheeks deepens as she laughs before confusion flits across her face.

"What are you doing here?" she asks and it doesn't take me long to realize that she must think that I was just another occupant at the party the other night. She has no idea that it was actually thrown _for_ me, or at least it was supposed to be.

"I must have forgotten to properly introduce myself." I clear my throat dramatically and reach out to take her hand in mind. Shaking it gently, I throw her a lazy smile. "I'm Damon _Salvatore_, Stefan's big brother, in _every _way."

"Oh God!" she exclaims suddenly with wide eyes, and for a second it looks like she just witnessed somebody shooting a Panda bear. "You must think I'm stalking you or something."

"The thought did cross my mind, but if all stalkers looked like you then I'm sure the Mystic Falls PD wouldn't be slammed with as many restraining orders."

Elena playfully rolls those beautiful brown eyes of hers, and I have to bite my lip to keep myself from grinning ear to ear because while we've been talking this whole time, she still hasn't removed her hand from mine.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything, but are you gonna hold my hand all day, brown eyes?"

Her eyes widen and she drops my hand like a hot potato. I count to three in my head and—

Yeah, she's blushing again.

Damn, I love that.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize—" she stammers and I chuckle.

"_Sure _you didn't," I drawl as I make my way over to the bar cart and pour myself two fingers of bourbon. It's a little early, even for me, but this girl has me tied up in knots and I need something to keep me in check.

"It's a little early, isn't it?" she asks, pointing towards the cart full of liquor. I'm relieved that I don't hear any trace of judgment in her voice, just open and honest curiosity.

I shrug. "It's five o'clock somewhere."

She crosses her arms and tilts her head a little. "It seems like I was right."

"About what?"

"You are dangerous," she says and a hint of a smile playing at the corner of her lips. I watch as Elena sashays into the living room like she owns the place before relaxing back on one of the leather sofas with ease, like we've known each other for years and she's as comfortable here as she would be in her own home. The thought makes me smile. "I like your house, by the way. It's...different."

I shrug my shoulders. "It's a little kitschy for my taste," I tell her, looking around the room. It's all original wood, high ceilings, Persian rugs and antique furniture, "kind of like the 1800's threw up all over the place and didn't bother to clean it up."

The Salvatore Boarding House has been in my family for decades. My dad inherited it from _his_ father and when my parents started living together, my mom fell in love with the classic decor almost instantly and never bothered to redecorate. Stefan and I thought about redecorating and modernizing the place a little after they died, but we both decided that it felt like home just the way it is.

"I like it," she tells me and the smile on her face tells me that she's not saying that just to be polite. Her eyes trail around the room before she looks out the big floor to ceiling window that faces the front yard. You can see the driveway from where she's sitting, and there sits my beauty. "And that's your car outside."

It isn't a question.

"It sure is." I can't keep the pride out of my voice.

Cars have always been important to the men of the Salvatore family, and my beauty of a Camaro is no exception. It originally belonged to my dad before he got married to my mom, and after they got married and pregnant with me, she made him retire it in favor of a more family-friendly vehicle. He kept it in the garage for years until it could be put to good use again and wound up fixing it before giving it to me for my sixteenth birthday. I'll never forget the indignant huff from Stefan when he exclaimed that his job of handing dad the tools was _just_ as important as fixing the car itself. Either way to this day, it was the best gift I've ever gotten.

I bring the glass up to my lips and take a swig before pouring another two fingers in a second glass and offering it to her. Elena shifts to her knees and leans over the back of the couch to take it from me, and I can't help but notice the swell of her breasts beneath her sweater. Cleavage is a beautiful thing.

Elena brings the glass to her nose and it wrinkles adorably as she takes a whiff. "Whiskey?"

"Bourbon, actually."

"Isn't bourbon just a fancy word for whiskey?"

"Damn, beautiful _and_ smart. How did I get so lucky?" I tease, all in good nature, until she replies.

She smiles a little. "You haven't...yet."

Elena adds that last word so carelessly, as if she _didn't_ just turn me on like a damn light switch. Her tongue pokes out to wet her lips before she takes her bottom lip between her teeth and she looks up at me from beneath her long lashes as she brings the glass up to her lips and yep, I'm hard as a fucking rock.

I shift closer to the cart to hide my raging hard-on, and I toss back the rest of my drink before throwing her my patented smirk. "And the kitten's got claws," I manage to tease around the lump lodged in my throat.

She hands me back her glass before saying, "You have no idea."

Fuck.

Who _is_ this girl?

I open my mouth to say something—_anything_—but I'm left with my jaw hanging open like an _idiot_ when we're interrupted by Stefan and his terrible timing. Unfortunately, I'm used to it at this point. I was the star pitcher for my Little League team when I was four, and during the final game of the season, my mom went into labor before I could even step up to the plate.

"Sorry that I took so long, I was looking for my laptop," Stefan announces and I squirm uncomfortably because I know _exactly _where he found it. My brother—ever the little shit that he is—takes a seat beside Elena before looking at me with a raised eyebrow and an amused smile. "I found it on your bedside table, right next to your pile of—"

"Car magazines," I cut in. It's not a _total_ lie. I really do keep car magazines on my bedside table, and it's not like it's _my_ fault that there happens to be the occasional naked woman draped over the hood of a classic every other page.

"Right, your _car_ magazines," Stefan shakes his head as he turns on the laptop, only to see there's only ten percent battery life left. "Damon!"

Shit. I forgot to plug it back in after I was done with it. I throw my hands up in surrender as I collapse on the sofa across from Stefan and Elena. "Don't _Damon! _me, I was trying to beat your high score—which, by the way—mission accomplished."

"Play Tetris on your own computer," Stefan growls and I roll my eyes.

Elena starts laughing and the two of us watch in amusement as my brother goes upstairs, huffing and puffing all the way, to grab his laptop charger and I wonder how long it'll take him to realize that I accidentally threw out his favorite bottle of hair gel while I was cleaning the bathroom yesterday.

"So, Tetris, huh?" Elena asks playfully and I cross one ankle over the other and fold my arms behind my head.

"I'm a man of _many_ talents."

"Don't be a dick, Damon," Stefan says—interrupting us _yet again_—when he comes back and sets everything up properly. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

I can't help but roll my eyes because it's becoming increasingly apparent that I got the brains _and_ the beauty while Stefan just got the beauty, and I'm being generous with that last bit.

"I live here, dumbass."

"You're hardly ever home this early. You're always with George at the garage or with Rose..." he trails off and I sit up ramrod straight.

I was supposed to meet Rose at her house for a little afternoon delight—I pull my phone out of my pocket and look at the time—shit, ten minutes ago. I sigh, mentally cursing my best friend _and_ my brother because for the first time in a long time, I'm not in _the_ mood. I try not to dwell on what that means.

I compose a new text message and send it to Rose.

_**Sorry Rosebud, something came up. Have to reschedule.**_

_**Whoever you're ditching me for, they better be worth it. **_

I watch Elena bite her lip in concentration as she skims through one of her notebooks, and I can see the loopy, cursive handwriting from here. I smile, and my response is almost immediate.

_**Don't worry. She is.**_

_**You owe me a Bloody Mary and an explanation the next time I see you.**_

_**Done. Talk to you later.**_

I tuck my phone back into my pocket and resume my relaxed disposition. "So, what are we working on?" I ask and Stefan holds up his textbook by means of explanation. "Ah, History. Fun," I say in a tone that implies it's anything but.

"I hate it," Elena says, tossing some hair over her shoulder, and exposing the long column of her throat. My cock twitches.

I clear my throat. "Personally, I'm more of a chemistry person myself," I say and Elena looks up from the book on her lap. I wet my lips with my tongue before smirking playfully. "I'm all about physical attraction and chemical reactions."

It's impossible to miss the curve of her smile and the spark in her eyes when she replies, "Me too."

It's with that smile that I know she's gonna ruin me in _every _way.

I also know that I'm not gonna do a damn thing to stop it.

I spend the next two hours reading _Gone With the Wind _while Stefan and Elena immerse themselves in their History nonsense. I haven't looked at anything they've done, but just hearing Elena's ideas about the project in combination with Stefan's knack for the subject, I'm pretty sure they'll ace this assignment.

At the end of it all, I wind up taking Elena back to the garage so she can take the car home. Stefan volunteered at first because "I drove her here so I'll take her home," but the only way _that_ was happening was over my cold, dead, rotting corpse and so here we are.

The garage is clean and well-kempt, and I love that for a reason I can't put my finger on, Elena looks like she's exactly where she belongs: standing among tire racks and toolboxes of wrenches and other mechanic paraphernalia.

"Wow, it looks as good as new," Elena says with a smile before her face falls and she looks at me with concern. "Crap, I don't have any money to pay you..."

I duck into the office to grab her keys before I toss them to Elena and fold my arms across my chest. "Don't worry about it, your mom called George this afternoon and the payment is all taken care of. You're good to go."

"Thank you," she tells me, blushing a little, and I get the feeling that she's talking about more than just the car. I never take my eyes off her face when she opens the door and puts her bag in the back, then smoothly sliding into the driver's seat. Before she backs the car into the garage or something, I open it for her and follow her out as she pulls into the parking lot.

I wait as she backs out before I head over to the open mouth of the garage, leaning against the wall.

But my eyebrow arches when she throws me a smile then rolls down her window.

"Hey, Damon?"

"Hey, Elena?" I toss back playfully and she bites her lip.

Her mouth opens like she's about to say something, but then the sound catches in her throat and she blushes again, her jaw snapping shut as she shakes her head.

"It's nothing." She smiles shyly. "I'll see you around, Damon."

I watch her drive out of the parking lot, and my stomach sinks. I blow out a heavy breath and go back inside, all the while cursing myself. I should have asked her if and when I could see her again, but I _didn't_ and now I'm regretting it like hell.

I close up the shop for the second time today before grabbing my keys out of my pocket and unlocking my car. And I've just opened the door when the sound of tires on gravel fills my ears, and I turn around to see Elena before pulling up beside me, her window rolled down and a beaming smile on her face.

"I lied to you," she tells me and I lean against the side of my car.

"Is that right?"

"Yeah. It's not nothing. I actually have a question for you."

I chuckle. "What a coincidence, I have an answer for _you_."

Elena rolls her eyes warmly and playfully before taking a deep breath and nervously asking, "Would it be okay if...if I called you sometime? To hangout? I mean, you can say no because I totally understand if it would be too weird for you but I like spending time with you so I just thought—"

"Elena," I cut her off and she blushes again. "You can't call me."

"Oh." She bites her lip and my heart starts to race.

I push off the side of my car to lean towards her window, and I can't keep the smile off my face when I tell her, "Because I'm gonna call you first."

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**Author's Note: So, did we love it? Hate it? Either way, please let me know! Until next time :)**


	7. Every Little Thing She Does is Magic

**Author's Note: Hey everyone, I'm back with a brand new chapter. This one was as equally fun to write as it was difficult, and I couldn't have finished it without the help of my wonderful beta, who also happens to be a very good friend, _goldnox_. When you're done here, I strongly suggest that you head over to her story "Order Up." Trust me when I say that it'll knock your socks off...and make you crave a whole lot of pizza and wings.**

**There's a little bit of a time jump in this chapter, which is necessary to keep the story moving along. There will be a few of those throughout the story but worry not my friends, I'll make it as clear as I can when they come up and if you have any questions, feel free to ask me in the review section or you can find me on twitter, my username is somethinprettty or you can go to /somethinprettty and I'll be more than happy to chat with you. **

**Thank you so much for all of your continued support, and I can't tell you how happy I am with the feedback I'm getting for Fireside. It certainly makes writing and updating so much easier and way more fun. Anyways, I think it's time that we get on with the story, don't you?**

**Chapter title comes from Sting's song _Every Little Thing She Does is Magic. _Happy reading!**

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**Chapter Six: Every Little Thing She Does is Magic**

**DAMON**

I take a long, deep breath before shutting off the water and stepping out of the shower, wrapping a towel around my waist and then heading towards my walk-in closet. Getting dressed has never been a mindful task, but as I stare at the simplicity of my closet—all of my clothes color coordinated on racks filled with t-shirts, Henley's and the occasional button-up followed by all my jeans—it collides with the complicated inner workings of my brain and I'm left imagining how good Elena would look wearing one of my shirts and _nothing_ else.

I don't know what the hell is wrong with me.

I've spent the last two months spending time with, laughing with, texting, talking to, missing and basically drowning in Elena Gilbert, and at this point even if someone tossed me a lifejacket, I'm pretty sure that I would rather sink with her than swim with anyone else. And I have no fucking clue how that happened; when she became the first person I wanted to talk to when I wake up in the morning or the last voice I wanted to hear before I fall asleep at night.

I guess it all started when I stayed home with Stefan and Elena instead of going out with Rose. It didn't seem like such a big deal at the time but looking back on that moment, I realize it was the beginning of a huge snowball.

And it sucks because I should have been bored as shit, sitting and reading while my brother and his History partner studied, but I actually had _fun_. Well, as much fun as I could have while the two of them were immersed in the Civil War. But it wasn't a completely uneducational experience on my part, because I walked away having peeled off one of the thousand layers that is Elena.

One of the first things that I learned about that girl, even before we had a real conversation, is that she's nothing like she seems. On the outside, she seems like a nice, quiet, small town girl—and she is—but underneath all that, she's a little spitfire and it's fucking hot as hell.

And the more that I learn about Elena, the more that I want to spend time with her. Like how she has three different laughs: one ridiculously obnoxious snort-like sound that she makes when she thinks something is way too funny to even bother with her polite laugh, otherwise known as laugh number two. The third is what I can only describe as a tinkling giggle, and I honestly can't decide which one out of the three I like best.

I learned inconsequential things about her too. Like how her favorite movie is _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ and she told me that if she could live anywhere in the world, it would be New York City and that she barely shed a tear when the hunter killed Bambi's mother, but she bawled like a newborn baby when Fleetwood Mac's _Landslide_ played while Charlie built that snowman in Jack Frost.

That's another thing that I learned about Elena: she loves Christmas.

And I mean she _loves_ Christmas.

As soon as the clock struck midnight on the first of December, it was almost as if she had the energy and joy of every single Who in Whoville combined, which left me and everyone else around her looking like the fucking Grinch because _no, _I don't think it's the most wonderful time of the year.

Or at least I didn't, but that was before I saw how happy she looked when she dragged me to the tree lot in Richmond because apparently my house lacked holiday spirit, which is how I wound up with a fucking seven foot tall Virginia Pine tree strapped to the roof of my car and _that_ was our first fight.

_I take a deep breath of fresh air in an attempt to calm down, but all I can smell is the Gingerbread cookies Elena suggested we pick up on the way here, and that only fuels my annoyance more. _

_"Damon," Elena sighs for what feels like the millionth time, and I feel her tentative touch on my shoulder. "It's really not a big deal, I'll help you pay for the damages and it will be as good as new. I'll even buy you the paint myself. We can go right now if you want."_

_"That's not the point!" I growl, moving the magnifying glass I grabbed out of the study when I realized there were scratches on the roof of my car, and I inspect another section of damage to my once pristine vehicle. _

_"You're being ridiculous, you can barely see the scratch!"_

_"But it's there!" I whirl around on my feet and stalk towards her, trying to ignore how sexy she looks standing in her knee-high leather boots that highlight every inch of her perfect legs, or the way the chill in the weather has made the tip of her nose and the soft skin of her cheeks the most adorable shade of pink. "I told you that I didn't want to get a tree but you kept pushing it and..."_

_She folds her arms across her chest, and I'm trying really hard to keep my eyes on her face but her jacket isn't zipped up all the way and she's wearing a really sexy red v-neck sweater and all I can see is the way her necklace sits between her cleavage. _

_I'm in the middle of wondering how her skin tastes when she stomps her foot, effectively throwing me back into reality. _

_"I have a face, Damon!" she hisses, and I roll my eyes because I'm well aware that she has a face; it's as perfect as the rest of her. _

_Not that I'm gonna tell her that. She scratched my car!_

At that point I was so riled up, I ended up throwing the magnifying glass across the yard and stormed into the house, shouting about how much I hated Christmas and nature and politics. I'm not entirely sure how that last one fit in there, but it made perfect sense at the time.

It took me all of an hour to realize what a monumental asshole I was being, so I wound up going to the General Store and buying an entire box of decorations before wrapping the box in red and green Christmas paper. I gave it to Elena as an early gift and I swear to God, her entire face lit up like Times Square on New Year's Eve when I told her that I was sorry and that she could decorate the tree any way she wanted.

Cheesy Christmas music played about chestnuts roasting on an open fire while I held the ladder and spotted her as Elena put the final touch on the tree—a flimsy handmade star she crafted out of materials she found in the study—and I realized that there wasn't anything I wouldn't do if only she would grace me with that beaming smile again.

I love that smile.

I woke up on Christmas morning to a text from Elena, and I swear you'd think there was a hanger stuck in my mouth for the way I was smiling all damn day.

_**You're the hottest Ebenezer Scrooge that I've ever seen. Merry Christmas, Damon :)**_

That's another thing. Elena is also funny as hell, and _nobody_ laughs harder at Elena's jokes than she does. I'd probably find it weird if I didn't think it was so damn adorable. But yeah, she's got a sharp sense of humor, and she's smart as a fucking whip. I've never met a girl that could match me word for word the way that she does. It's equally frustrating as it is sexy.

It's the first week of February now, and I still haven't deleted that text.

And despite my growing affection for her, it doesn't make our relationship any easier. I mean, she's the town sweetheart with a heart of gold, and she'll probably end up marrying the quarterback of the football team—the jealousy that surges through me at the mere thought of that happening is another thing entirely—have 2.5 kids and move into a cookie cutter house with a white picket fence.

On top of all that, she's the daughter of Dr. Grayson Gilbert—aka, the town _hero_—and I'm pretty sure that the man would have a coronary not even he could fix if he ever found out that I of all people had eyes for his little girl.

And it's not like I have _no_ redeeming qualities whatsoever because obviously Elena sees something in me, but I'm nobody's favorite anything and I have never been and probably will never be a father's number one choice for his daughter, least of all somebody as perfectly imperfect as Elena.

And that thought was laid on me loud and clear when my best friend decided to slay me with a reality wake up call.

_I'm sitting on my favorite reading chair in my room. It used to sit by my nightstand, but I thought it would work better by the French doors leading out to the balcony. The sun is just setting on the horizon, casting a warm glow into my room as I continue to read my favorite Jack London book. _

_I'm on the first page of the last chapter when my bedroom door flies open, and Rose walks in with a bottle of her favorite wine in one hand, her overnight bag in the other._

_"What, no Trevor tonight?" I ask, grinning a little. _

_"What, no Elena tonight?" she snaps as she sits on the edge of my bed, and I hold my hands up in surrender as if I'm approaching a skittish animal instead of my best friend. I fucking hate Trevor. "Sorry, rough day."_

_"Yeah, I can see that." _

_I quietly set my book down before taking a seat beside her, and I pretend not to notice the way she wipes her face of fallen tears I know she hates to cry. _

_She leans her head on my shoulder before quietly telling me, "He's in love with someone else, Damon. He doesn't want me."_

_"Then he's an idiot." I press my lips to the top of her hair before resting my cheek on the crown of her head. "You'll find someone, Rosebud."_

_"Thank you for not saying 'I told you so.'"_

_I shrug. "The night is still young."_

_Rose lets out a sigh and rests her hand on the top of my leg, and my entire body stiffens. We've been doing this for a little over four years and I've never turned her down before, but this time is different._

_Abruptly, I blurt out, "I can't have sex with you." Much to my surprise—and relief—that gets a small laugh out of her. "What's so funny?"_

_"You don't give yourself enough credit, you know that?" Rose lifts her head from my shoulder, and I'm surprised to see a soft smile on her face. "You're good for more than just sex, Damon."_

_"Oh yeah?" I tease, trying to hide in my voice that the way her expression is making me want to look away in embarrassment. "Because that's not what you said the last time you were in my bedroom..."_

_She laughs lightly, then tilts her head at me with a sigh like she can't believe she actually has to explain this. But it's news to me._

_"I came here tonight because my heart is broken and you're the only guy that's never let me down. I just needed my friend." I barely let out a breath of relief when she continues with a shrug, "Besides, I know you're falling in love with Elena, and I don't sleep with taken men."_

_I defensively fold my arms across my chest as I stand up. "I'm not falling in love with anyone," I say decisively with an indignant scoff, and she rolls her eyes in response. _

_Seriously? Where does she come off? Elena and I are just friends._

_We haven't even kissed or anything like that. Hell, the only time that we've even held hands was when she forgot to let go in the parlor two months ago. She's just my friend..._

_I turn away, looking out the windows as I grit my teeth, my mind speeding. Because she is my friend, but I can't deny the fact that she's a friend I miss whenever she isn't here, a friend that I want to spend all of my time with, a friend that I think is the most beautiful thing that I've ever laid my eyes on. A friend that I want to kiss the living daylights out of..._

_My eyes widen as I stare at the trees outside whose lines and leaves are all blurring under a growing realization that I never expected, even though I probably should have because _fuck me.

_I'm falling in love with Elena._

That was over a week ago, and let me tell you, it doesn't fucking help that Mystic Falls has turned into a giant Hallmark card for my least favorite "holiday" that I'm _constantly_ being reminded is just around the corner.

Valentine's Day.

I sigh heavily, yanking a grey Henley off the rack in frustration and pulling it over my head before I unwind the towel around my waist and step into my jeans. I hear him before I see him.

"Hey, Damon—whoa, sorry!" Stefan ducks his head in embarrassment, and I can't help but chuckle as I pull my pants up all the way and zip them up. "I knocked but I guess you didn't hear me. I thought you were sleeping or something..."

"I was in the shower," I tell him, and he mumbles something about us being too old for this shit, and I roll my eyes. He can be such a prude sometimes. "Relax, brother. You have one too, it's nothing you haven't seen before."

"You can be such a prick, you know that? I don't know how Elena spends so much time with you."

"I'm gonna pretend that I didn't hear that." After grabbing a pair of socks and putting them on, I yank my boot to quell the urge to throw it at his head while biting out, "What do you want?"

Stefan's entire demeanor changes at my question and I automatically know that he wants something, feeling every bit the six-year-old denying his toddler brother my ice-cream cone because he dropped his.

"Do you wanna grab a bite to eat? I was thinking the Grill."

"You hate the Grill."

He frowns in confusion. "No I don't."

"Okay, I do," I admit.

"Do you wanna go or not?"

I shrug. "You're a big boy, go by yourself."

"I can't." He sighs and scrubs a hand over the back of his neck. It's a thing we do when we're nervous as shit, and it takes me all of two seconds to catch on. I can't keep the smirk off my lips as I fold my arms across my chest.

"Caroline's gonna be there, isn't she?"

In the past few months that I've been spending time with Elena, I've also gotten better acquainted with—much to my dismay—Caroline Forbes. I don't know much about her other than she's tiny, blonde and thinks I have no soul because I don't cry at every goddamn kitten commercial that comes on.

She's also quite possibly the most positive and optimistic person that I have ever met in my life, always spouting out encouragements and quotes of the day. I might find it endearing if her voice wasn't like nails on a chalkboard.

And not only is she one of Elena's best friends, but she also happens to be the object of Stefan's affections.

"I can't believe you're in love with the Sheriff's daughter," I tease, grabbing my jacket off the back of my door and heading downstairs, Stefan hot on my heels. "How scandalous. I wonder if she has an extra set of handcuffs for you to—"

"Do you wanna go, or not?" Stefan cuts me off, and I grab my keys off the table by the front door, shaking my head.

"I'm busy."

"Elena's gonna be there..." he drawls, and I stop in my tracks.

I haven't seen Elena since she got back from her little family vacation up at their lake house. That was over two days ago, but it's been two days too long and I...I've _missed_ her.

And I have a sneaking suspicion that the truth of that may not be as hidden as I'd like it to be, because when I look at Stefan he's got a shit-eating grin on his face like he knows that he's got me.

I sigh. "Get your jacket. I'm driving."

* * *

**Author's Note: So, what do we think? Leave a review, and I'll catch ya next time :) Thanks again!**


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